The Sheriff's Runaway Bride. Arlene James
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but it had never been the same. She’d blamed herself for Lucy slipping out of the house and going to the creek. All these years later, he was beyond grateful to hear that happy, joyous sound again. It meant that she had forgiven herself at last.
“He must be quite a guy, this Gabe Wesson.”
“Oh, he is. I’m getting ready to go out to dinner with him and A.J. Why don’t you come with us? He’s anxious to meet you.”
I bet he is, Zach thought. Zach had called Gabe for a little man-to-man talk after he’d accused Brooke of being negligent in the disappearance of his young son, who Kylie Jones had found in Vincent’s backyard. Brooke had phoned Zach in tears. In full big-brother mode, Zach had rung up Gabe. Now Brooke and Gabe were engaged, and Zach was prepared to let bygones be bygones, provided Gabe was all he seemed.
“Just let me shower and change out of these clothes. Diggers left the office a mess, and I’ve been working on it all day.”
“Take Mama’s room. I cleaned it out for you. That way Viv and I won’t have to share when she gets here.”
If she gets here, Zach thought, but he didn’t bother saying as much. She would come or she wouldn’t. Same with Mei and Lucas. Still, Brooke had wisely made provision. She and Vivienne had shared a room as girls, but as women they obviously needed a measure of privacy, provided, of course, that Vivienne eventually showed up. But that worry could be left for later.
“I’ll be ready before you will,” Zach taunted, grinning.
“True!” Brooke laughed, spinning back into the bathroom.
Zach smiled to himself. It felt surprisingly good to be home.
Chapter Two
He’d known good times here, but tough ones, too, Zach told himself as he carried his luggage to his room, especially when it came to Lucy and his late father. George Jr. and his twin brother Vern, Zach’s uncle, had died in an auto accident when Zach was twenty, some five years after Lucy’s drowning. Zach’s mother, Marion, had followed only a few years ago. After her funeral, Zach had intended never to return here.
Now, at thirty, he was moving back into the old house. Temporarily. After the required year here, Zach had every intention of heading back to his real life, wherever that might be. He expected that his sister Vivienne and most of his cousins would do the same, especially Lucas, who couldn’t wait to get out of Clayton in the first place and hadn’t even returned for their grandfather’s funeral.
That reminded Zach that he still hadn’t heard from or about Lucas. He had an old friend with the Florida state police putting feelers out unofficially, but so far he’d learned nothing. Uneasiness prickled the skin on the nape of Zach’s neck, and he sent up a quick prayer that whatever was going on with his younger cousin would be resolved soon and safely. He feared not only for Lucas but also for their cousin Arabella, who lived in Grandpa George’s house with her triplet daughters, Jessie, Julie and Jamie, and her ward, Jasmine Turner. Arabella had taken care of their grandfather for years and deserved to inherit the house, but that would only happen if George Sr.’s other grandchildren gave up a year of their lives to fulfill the terms of the old man’s will. Zach could only pray, for her sake, that everyone could and would.
Unzipping his bags, he first stowed his personal carry gun in the drawer of the bedside table before quickly unpacking. As he worked, he wondered idly when he would see Kylie Jeanne Jones again. Maybe he’d go out to the Jones place after the Fourth. It seemed likely that she would lay low for a few days after canceling her wedding to one of the town’s most prominent sons.
Zach couldn’t understand why Kylie had ever agreed to marry Vincent in the first place. All that talk of a buy-out was just so much nonsense. Samuel never parted with a nickel of his own if he could get someone else to do so first. Besides, from what Brooke had told him and what he’d seen already, Vincent hadn’t changed much. Even if Brooke’s fears and suspicions should prove unfounded—and Zach was too good a cop to let his personal prejudices decide the matter for him—Vincent still seemed to be the sly bully that he’d always been.
After stowing his empty bags in the closet, Zach removed his service gun, holster and belt, tucking them into the top drawer of his mother’s empty dresser. All the while, he considered Kylie Jones.
She was an attractive little thing, with that waist-length cloud of light-golden-brown curls, those moss-green eyes and perfect lips. He thought of the finely boned shoulders and long slender arms displayed by the strapless wedding gown, the neatly nipped in waist and the flare of the full skirt.
Attractive? Who was he kidding? She was beautiful, breathtakingly so in her wedding gown. Much too beautiful for the likes of Vincent.
At least she’d come to her senses in time to save herself. For now. The question was whether she’d stick to her guns or let Vincent wear her down, as he would surely try to do. Vincent didn’t like to lose, even if the “prize” was something he didn’t really want. Zach hoped that Kylie would be smart enough to keep her distance from Vincent, which was probably good advice on his end, too.
The last thing Zach needed was trouble with Vincent and that side of the family, especially since Vincent’s father Pauley had managed to get himself elected mayor. Thankfully, Zach thought, I answer only to the county sheriff!
After a quick shower, he changed into comfortable jeans and a simple navy blue T-shirt before performing a fast shave and sweeping his short, ash-brown hair straight back from his brow. He saw that the barber hadn’t quite gotten all of the lighter tips on the top of his head, where the Florida sun had bleached his hair almost blond. That made the contrast between his hair and his darker brows all the more pronounced. No matter. Another trim would take care of it.
He wondered how soon his tan would fade. Probably not for a few months. He recalled that Kylie Jones had smooth, ivory skin, with just a smattering of freckles on her cheeks. Turning off that thought, he pulled on a pair of black cowboy boots. Then he took the compact 9 mm from the drawer in the bedside table and slipped it into the holster hidden in the small of his back, making sure that it was secure and easily accessible. By law, all peace officers were required to carry a handgun when off-duty. It seemed unnecessary around here, but Zach would have felt naked without the thing. And he had learned the hard way how helpless a cop could be without firepower.
Properly dressed, he went to the kitchen and helped himself to a cold glass of water. Brooke came out of her room a few minutes later dressed in patriotic style, the softly gathered skirt of her red-white-and-blue plaid sundress swirling about her ankles.
“Come on. Gabe’s waiting!”
Chuckling, Zach left the glass in the sink and walked his sister next door to meet the man who had put that silly smile on her face.
Though a wealthy businessman from Denver, Gabe turned out to be unexpectedly down-to-earth. His home displayed a certain tasteful affluence well above the norm around Clayton, but Gabe himself came off as an average guy. The look in his eyes when he welcomed Brooke told Zach that Gabe felt as much for Brooke as she did for him. Best of all, Gabe’s little boy flew into the room and literally threw himself at Brooke’s knees. She lifted him up onto her hip with such fond ease that Zach found himself clearing away a sudden lump in his throat.
He’d prayed to see Brooke as at ease with a child as she appeared to be with this one. After Lucy’s death, Brooke had vowed never to have children of her own. Now here she stood, rubbing noses with little A.J. and making goo-goo eyes at him while Gabe looked on with fierce pride and obvious love.
They moved into the living room to visit for a few minutes. Talk centered on the day’s events, starting with Zach’s swearing in that morning and culminating with the breakup of Vincent and Kylie. Though shocking, the news that the wedding had not taken place pleased Brooke.
“We weren’t invited, of course, being from George’s side of the family, but I couldn’t help wondering if she knew what she was getting into.”
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